By Ryan McLellan
If I could warn my students of one thing it is that
they will soon be old; the days and years pass
faster than they think. Before long they’ll find
themselves alone at bus stops with nowhere to
go and the young ones will point and laugh. They
will feed pigeons in the park and wander grocery
store aisles, hope someone strikes up conversation
but knowing no one will. I’d warn them but they
wouldn’t listen. I was that way, too, when I was
young, so I can’t blame them.
Category: Poetry